"When you killed an innocent maid and a servant, you showed them no rcy," the man growled. "So why should I show rcy to you and that disgusting monster growing inside you? You both deserve to die just as they did, and I’ll be the one to send you to hell with my sword."
With that, he flipped the blade in his hand, and with a sudden leap, lunged toward her, aiming the sharp tip straight at her chest.
Belle didn’t know how she did it. All she knew was that a surge of rage had exploded within her, fueled by the instinct to kill the man before he could harm her child. She had acted without thinking.
When the sword ca flying toward her chest, she caught it with her bare hand, stopping it mid-air. Had she looked down, she would have seen her hand scorched black, like charred wood. But she didn’t. Her rage-filled eyes were locked with the terrified gaze of the man before her, who could see her eyes changing color and the skin of her face turning rough and pitch-black.
All blood drained from his face when he couldn’t push the sword any further than he had because she held it effortlessly with one hand, and soon enough he heard the cracking sound of the sword breaking into half.
"I begged you to let go, but you refused. Now it’s ti I send your soul to rest," she spoke with a voice that sounded hoarse and dry, detached and so inhuman that it made the man begin to shake, his bones quivering audibly. He had never seen anything like this before.
Soone with skin that looked burnt and eyes that looked hollow and dead—black like the pit of hell itself. This woman was no vampire, he realized too late as he began to back away to run and report this, but he never got to take two steps before he was pulled and hurled back by her. She effortlessly slamd his back against the stone ground, and then grabbing his sword, she ran it smoothly into his chest, piercing his heart with ease.
"Death is the dicine to those who can’t show rcy," she rasped, pressing the sword harder into his chest until the man went lifeless, and the hovering Grim Reaper, who was in the basent and oblivious to the cause of the death of the soul he had seen its ti was over, took away the man’s soul, leaving behind the shell of his being in the living world.
---
Far away in Nightbrook, where Rohan had reached before the others, as he had used his wings rather than the ship, he stood atop the tower of his castle, where from that height he could see vampire soldiers surrounding the grounds of the place. They stood in every corners.
It was deep into the night, and he blended seamlessly into the shadows, the heavy dark clouds of Nightbrook blocking out the glow of the moon. A light drizzle fell, with flashes of lightning tearing through the sky, but Rohan paid no heed. His focus was fixed on counting the n patrolling the grounds, searching for an opening to slip into the castle.
He needed to find that cowardly reaper pet, Kuhn. Leaving his wife alone in Bimrville was sothing he neither liked nor felt at peace about. He had to send Kuhn to at least stand guard by her side, but he had no way of summoning the creature without entering the castle first.
Only every secret entrance he knew of, and even the windows, had vampires guarding them, as if they already knew he would co.
He had expected this, that the king would keep n stationed in case he returned, so they could further attempt to kill him and rid the king of any future trouble. King Zion had always been an insecure man, one who had wanted so much more than the late king to get rid of Rohan back then.
When his heart was being torn out of him rcilessly, the man had been there, watching as the king’s n ripped it out. He had known that if Rohan lived, he would have no chance of ever acceding to the throne. He had been among those who encouraged his execution along with the late queen.
Had King Zion attended the late queen’s birthday celebration, Rohan knew he wouldn’t be facing this problem now—because the man would have died along with all the others who had attended, whom Rohan had effortlessly killed. He could kill Zion now, and that was exactly his plan, but it wouldn’t be as easy as it would have been had the man not been on guard, knowing that soday his nephew would co for his head.
Killing a vampire wasn’t difficult for Rohan—he had killed his so-called parents and countless others. And now, to secure a safe place for his new family, he would kill his so-called uncle at any chance he could get. He had been to the royal castle, and the vampire soldiers were double the amount there.
But before he could begin planning his attack on the king, he wanted to send Kuhn to where Belle was. The re thought that his wife was in a foreign land without him was sothing that deeply bothered him.
He had promised to finish everything before she went into labor, which he hoped to the gods wouldn’t be anyti soon. He was still trying to calculate his movents, and getting close to the king wouldn’t be easy.
Rohan was still watching the vampires below, scattered across his castle grounds, when he suddenly felt a presence, one so intense it sent an unfamiliar shiver racing down his spine. His heart began to pound wildly, thudding hard against his chest. The sensation was so foreign to him that he clutched his hand to his chest, gooseflesh prickling across his skin.
What was this strange feeling? He thought to himself with a deep frown.
Slowly, and with effort, he turned in the direction the presence ca from.
There was no one behind him. He looked around him frantically, searching for the presence he could feel deep in his bones.
But then his eyes caught the source.
Atop the sa tower he stood on was another winged figure. The sight caught him completely off guard. He had never seen anyone else with wings before. He had seen many in books he read. But not like this. Not so massive, so powerful-looking, that his eyes narrowed instinctively.
The figure stood at a distance, wings outstretched, flapping slowly behind him with authority. Just then, the moon, which had been cloaked by clouds, broke free, casting a pale silver light across the sky. It bathed the figure in eerie illumination, outlining his fra in glowing silhouette.
Rohan’s lashes trembled in mild astonishnt. A sharp, unshakable feeling of déjà vu twisted in his gut.
He had lived this mont before.
He had seen this person before.
Horns stood atop the figure’s head, and his hair flowed with the wind. Rohan didn’t need a closer look to know the man’s eyes were locked onto him, staring with a pressure so heavy it made his body chilled.
He didn’t like the feeling this person was giving him.
Where had he seen or lived this mont before? Rohan wondered, but he didn’t even need to think hard about it, he recalled it instantly.
He suddenly realized this was the sa unknown figure that had appeared in his mind more than once when he first woke up and found himself in Bimrville. He had seen this sa image in his head while he slept, but never understood why he forgot it each ti he woke. And the day he finally rembered, he had unconsciously painted it, only realizing what he’d done after the painting was complete.
That morning, he had seen this exact image in his head and painted it before even questioning why.
Now, seeing that it hadn’t been his imagination, that the figure was real, his eyes darkened as he demanded:
"Who are you?"
Rohan did not speak the words aloud. He spoke them in his mind, knowing if the person was a demon, he would hear his question.
The man didn’t speak, but from the way his eyes grew more intense in the dark, Rohan could tell he’d heard him.
"You know it."
The figure’s voice answered in Rohan’s head, and it felt so unlike Rav’s that it made him go cold. Whoever this demon was, he was powerful. Powerful enough to make Rohan feel this way, when he had never felt it in the presence of anyone before. It was always the other way around—he made people feel like this.
"I know you’re a demon. Why do you keep invading my mind? What do you want from ?"
Rohan asked coolly, not in the mood for conversation with a demon. He had never seen one before until now, and even though he was looking at this one, he still couldn’t make out his face. The distance and the backlight of the moon turned the figure into a shadow.
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